


Grieving the Devil

by TheHeightsThatWuthered (JosieRuby1)



Category: Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë
Genre: Death, Grief, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieRuby1/pseuds/TheHeightsThatWuthered
Summary: When Heathcliff dies most people are relieved but it's another story for Hareton





	Grieving the Devil

Hareton Earnshaw was a young man of very few words. As a child, the words he had chosen to use were always ones of anger and hatred, such was the environment he was subjected to. He used the words to spit at Heathcliff, to call Nelly words he didn’t really understand but were cruel and unkind. When he wasn't angry or hateful he was quiet for the sake of his safety. Noise risked attracting Hindley's attention and Hindley's attention meant pain that the small boy did not want to deal with. Hindley, in Hareton’s mind, was the personification of pain. He was the one who whipped him, hit him, kicked him, threw him, screamed at him. Hindley was the one who demanded respect and love and returned it with abuse.

When Hindley had died, Hareton had experienced grief for the first time. Or at the very least, he had experienced losing someone who was within the limited number of people he had known. Hindley’s death was not a cause of sadness or grief for Hareton. He did not work his way through the stages, he was not angry, he did not long for him back, there was no depression. Hindley’s death brought with it the first and only time in his life when Hareton had agreed with Joseph. The man old religious man had spoken harshly about Hindley, about how the devil had him permanently now. Hareton had hoped Hindley was with the devil. He hoped that Hindley would be writhing in constant agony. He had only been ten or eleven when the man had died but he had felt a hatred towards him for many years. That’s not to say that he was as happy as Heathcliff had been. Heathcliff celebrated as though he had done the deed himself (Hareton could not comment on whether that was true or not) and rid the world of the worst of demons. Hareton simply reflected to himself on how Hindley’s death had freed him. No longer would he have to hide himself in cupboards or out or the house, no longer would old scars be entwined with new ones. The scars healed and Hareton was free to go where he pleased.

Under Heathcliff’s guidance, Hareton did not experience love. Heathcliff was cold and distant. He refused Hareton an education, refused to spend time with him, refused to converse. Nevertheless, under Heathcliff’s guidance, Hareton felt safe in a way he never had when Hindley lived. Hareton always had food and shelter and a bed. Heathcliff was not a father but it was a word Hareton associated more with Heathcliff than Hindley. Wuthering Heights could not become a place of happiness, even with Hindley’s absence. Hareton learnt as he grew that happiness was simply not possible at Wuthering Heights. The Heights was drama and hatred and anger. It was only upon meeting Cathy that Hareton truly got a concept of happiness. Before Cathy, the Heights was simply a place of work and rest with no real feeling and Hareton was fine with this.

When Heathcliff died the world seemed to celebrate. Perhaps that was an overstatement but Hareton’s world was small and the people around him seemed happy by the death. Joseph spoke much in the same way as he had about Hindley but the words seemed crueller or perhaps they just hit him harder because he was not happy about this death. Nelly spoke softly of the burden being lifted from the house, as though Heathcliff had been the demon holding them all down. Cathy had spoken loudly about how they were now free and could live their life. It hurt. It hurt in a way Hareton could not understand or speak of.

The funeral was a quiet affair. A simple service with only Hareton and Nelly in attendance, then a burial with the usual words. Talk of returning to dust and waking in peace in heaven. Hareton didn’t cry. He could not cry and yet there was a loss, a sadness deep within him that he was fairly sure was never going to leave him.

The tears came eventually, when Hareton got home. Cathy was grinning all over her face and talking excitedly about their approaching wedding but all Hareton could do was stare at her as though she had lost her mind. He rushed from the room and was crying before he even got the door bolted shut. He fell to the ground lost and hurting. He did not understand it and did not try to make sense of it. Instead, he just hid with one thought running over and over his mind: How could one man be a demon to so many but a saviour to one?


End file.
